Part 16 (1/2)

There is water and good wine. They are the best cordials.”

”Eh, a little water. I do not refuse. As for the wine, no. I thank you the same. I am fasting and have walked. After supper, at home, I will drink.”

”Serafina!” cried Sor Tommaso, and the old sibyl immediately appeared from the stairs, whither she had discreetly retired to wait during Annetta's visit. ”Bring water, and that bottle of my wine from downstairs. You know, the bottle of old wine of Stefanone's that was opened.”

”No, no. I want no wine,” said Annetta, quickly.

”Bring it all the same. Perhaps she will do us the honour to drink it.”

Serafina nodded, and her bare feet were heard on the stone steps as she descended.

”It is bad to drink pure water when one is very thirsty,” said Sor Tommaso. ”It cramps the stomach. A little wine gives the stomach strength. But it is best to eat. If you will eat, there are fresh jumbles. I also eat them.”

”I thank you the same,” answered Annetta. ”I wish only water. It is a long way from Civitella, and there is no good spring. There is the brook that runs out of the pond at the foot of the last hill. But it is heavy water, full of stuff.”

Serafina came back, bringing two heavy tumblers of pressed gla.s.s on a little black j.a.panned tray, with a decanter of cold water. In her other hand she carried two bottles, one half full of wine, the other containing the white and sugary syrup of peach kernels of which Italians are so fond.

”I brought this also,” she said, holding up the bottle as she set down the tray. ”Perhaps it is better.”

”Yes,” said Sor Tommaso, nodding in approbation. ”It is better.”

”You will drink a little orgeat?” asked the old woman, in a tone of persuasion, and mixing it in the gla.s.s.

”Water, simply water,” said Annetta, who was still suspicious. ”Give me water in the other gla.s.s.”

”But I have mixed already in both,” answered Serafina. ”Eh, you will drink it. You will not make an old woman like me go all the way down the stairs again. But then, it is good. It is I that tell you. I made it myself, yesterday morning, for the doctor, to refresh his blood a little.”

Annetta had risen to her feet and was watching the gla.s.ses, as the old woman stirred the white syrup in the water with an old-fas.h.i.+oned, long-handled spoon. She did not wish to seem absurdly suspicious, and yet she distrusted her enemy. She took one of the gla.s.ses, went to his side, and held it to his lips as one gives an invalid drink.

”After you,” he said, with a polite smile, but raising his hand to take the gla.s.s.

”Sick people first, well people afterwards,” answered Annetta, smiling too, but watching him intently.

He had satisfied himself that she really suspected foul play, for he knew the peasants well, and was only a degree removed from them himself.

He at once dismissed her suspicions by drinking half the tumbler at a draught. She immediately took the other and emptied it eagerly, as she was really very thirsty.

”A little more?” suggested Serafina, in her croaking voice.

”No,” interposed Sor Tommaso. ”It might hurt her--so much at once.”

But Annetta filled the tumbler with pure water, and emptied it again.

”At last!” she exclaimed with a sigh of satisfaction. ”What thirst! I seemed to have eaten ashes! And now I thank you, Sor Tommaso, and I am going home; for it is Ave Maria, and I do not wish to make a bad meeting in the dark as happened to you. Ugly a.s.sa.s.sins! I will never forgive them, never! What am I to say at home? That you will come to supper one of these days?”

”Eh, if G.o.d wills,” answered the doctor. ”I will be accompanied by Serafina.”

”I!” exclaimed the old woman. ”I am afraid even of a cat! What could I do for you?”

”Company is always company,” said Sor Tommaso, wisely. ”Where one would not go, two go bravely. Good evening, my beautiful daughter,” he added, looking up at Annetta. ”The Madonna go with you.”